<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Against the Odds by the_stargazing_dreamer</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24030091">Against the Odds</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_stargazing_dreamer/pseuds/the_stargazing_dreamer'>the_stargazing_dreamer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Sort of Hydra Grant Ward</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-03 01:49:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24030091</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_stargazing_dreamer/pseuds/the_stargazing_dreamer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Grant’s not going to lie to himself. Hearing Fitz-Simmons would be on the team was … a curveball he had not been expecting. Except he could do this. There’s that voice in his head telling him to not be weak and not get attached (John’s?) and this is like any other assignment he’s worked. He just needs to lose himself in his role, become who he needs to be, but when he rounds the side of the Bus and steps onto the cargo ramp, he knows he’s fucked." - After a six month estrangement, Grant and Jemma are selected for Coulson's team. Jemma insists they can be professional but reflecting on how they got there and living in close quarters makes that easier said than done.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jemma Simmons/Grant Ward</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Only the original characters are mine... everyone else I'm just borrowing to have a little fun.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Grant’s not going to lie to himself. Hearing Fitz-Simmons would be on the team was … a curveball he had not been expecting.</p>
<p>Except he could do this. There’s that voice in his head telling him to not be weak and not get attached (<em>John’s</em>?) and this is like any other assignment he’s worked. He just needs to lose himself in his role, become who he needs to be, but when he rounds the side of the Bus and steps onto the cargo ramp, he knows he’s fucked.</p>
<p>He keeps a cool, detached demeanor about him. One, the loading crew can barely be considered Level 1 and are not privy to such information. Two, she doesn’t need to know that she’s all he can think about.</p>
<p>He uses her distraction to his advantage, blocking out the inane scientific babble as the two pester each other, and watches her move about. Graceful, thoughtless, like the Bus was already home and she knew it all on instinct.</p>
<p><em>Home</em>.</p>
<p>Memories flicker through his head like a film reel and he tightens his grip on his bag. He could stand here all day but the sound of Fitz’s voice is already driving him insane.</p>
<p>He drops his bag, catching their attention, and doesn’t miss the look on either face. Fitz looks shocked, as though he didn’t actually expect Grant to show. And Jemma…</p>
<p>“Fitz-Simmons?” He keeps his voice steady, without emotion or recognition.</p>
<p>“Fitz,” She points, a smile on her face after she recovers her composure.</p>
<p>“Simmons.” Fitz is almost begrudging as he points back and forth. “I’m engineering; she’s biochem. Agent … Ward?”</p>
<p>“Coulson said I’d need my comm receiver encoded.” He pulls the device out of his pocket and hands it over. Fitz wordlessly accepts it and returns to the table. “I don’t know if you’ve worked with that model before, it’s…”</p>
<p>He trails off as Fitz begins to smash at it with a hammer, rather forcefully. They all know the shtick they’re supposed to use but there’s definitely animosity behind each whack.</p>
<p>“… brand new.” He finishes, his jaw working against his irritation. <em>Fucking Fitz</em>.</p>
<p>“He’ll repurpose the IDIS chip.” Jemma says softly but it catches his attention. She doesn’t look at him, focuses instead on her work.</p>
<p>“Don’t need the external receiver for the inner ear comms anymore.” Fitz also focuses instead on his work, peering at some piece he just pulled out of the wreckage. Grant frowns and pulls his comm out of his ear.</p>
<p>“So, how … ah! Urgh.” he barely has time to question the engineer when Jemma is suddenly in front of him, grasping his jaw and shoving a swab into his mouth. She still doesn’t meet his eye, rambling about something with silicone and DNA and he can’t think because his jaw is burning from her touch.</p>
<p>She caps the swab and finally meets his eye and he swears his fucking heart stops at her mischievous grin.</p>
<p>“So, are you excited to be coming on our journey into mystery?” Her tone is half teasing, half excited. It feels like old times and he wonders if this has all been a dream.</p>
<p>The comment reminds him why they are all here in the first place and he scowls.</p>
<p>“Like Christmas.” He retorts and doesn’t miss the grin she can’t hide as she turns back to the work bench. What he wants to say is no. What he wants to do is drag her into the SUV and take her back home.</p>
<p>But Coulson pulls up instead and Fitz begins babbling about Lola.</p>
<p>His eyes wander to where she is flipping through files and the grin is gone. He knows what she looks like when something is bothering her. <em>He</em> is bothering her.</p>
<p>Once he is led to the upper level by Coulson, Jemma whips a pencil across the room, hitting Fitz squarely in the chest.</p>
<p>“You behave yourself.”</p>
<p>“Me! I’m not the one jamming swabs into random people’s mouths without their consent.”</p>
<p>“He’s not random.” She argues gently. She glances back out the door, as if she still expects him to be standing there. “I probably shouldn’t have done that though. At least not like that. That was …”</p>
<p>She hesitates. She’s going to say muscle memory. She’s used to poking and prodding Grant without warning. First, with his great reluctance, and then silent agreement as he realized a relationship with Jemma would include being her personal guinea pig. Not to mention the other things of hers that have gone in his mouth. Her hand tightens around the pen and she bites her own lip. </p>
<p>“Rude.” Fitz’s voice catches her off guard and she flushes bright red, pushing thoughts of Grant’s mouth far away. <em>No. </em>She scolds herself, forcing herself to remember that night, and not become conflicted by past memories. </p>
<p>“No more than you smashing his receiver to bits. Overdid it just a little don’t you think?”</p>
<p>“He’s lucky it was just his comms.”</p>
<p>“Oh Fitz.” She rolls her eyes and sighs. He pouts, completely understanding her insinuation. As if he could ever beat up Grant Ward. </p>
<hr/>
<p>He takes advantage of Coulson’s introduction pep talk with Fitz.</p>
<p>He remembers what it was like before he was fully in the picture. Had to practically pry them apart with a damn crowbar and if Fitz’s moment with his comm receiver is any indication, the engineer has not grown any fond feelings for him since the last time they’d seen each other. He highly doubts he’ll be voluntarily given a few moments of privacy with her otherwise.</p>
<p>“I like the bangs.” He goes for charming when the lab doors slide open.</p>
<p>She huffs but doesn’t lift her head from the microscope.</p>
<p>“They were unintentional. A little mishap with a …” she suddenly trails off and straightens up. “Is there something you needed assistance with Agent Ward?”</p>
<p>The use of his title makes his eyebrows raise.</p>
<p>“There’s no one here but us Jem.”</p>
<p>“I know. However, I think it’s important that we maintain proper boundaries while we work together. Wouldn’t you agree?”</p>
<p>The whole damn team knows. He doesn’t know what Coulson is playing at other than he wanted the best. He’s sure May disapproves because she just seemed to be against everything in life. Fitz’s opinion on the matter was very well and vocally known.</p>
<p>“Why are you doing this?” He asks instead and her mouth curls up in distaste.</p>
<p>“Agent Coulson requested me specifically. How could I pass up that opportunity?”</p>
<p>“You didn’t pass your field exam.”</p>
<p>“Yes, well, Coulson didn’t feel that was a problem. After all, this isn’t a combat op.”</p>
<p>“It is a problem. What if something …” the thought makes his stomach tumble and he swallows. “What if something happened to you?”</p>
<p>Her gaze softens for just a moment before her mouth purses and she turns her attention back to her microscope.</p>
<p>“That’s very rich coming from you.” She says as she removes a slide and inserts a new one.</p>
<p>“What the fuck does that mean?”</p>
<p>“You’re actually serious? What about you?”</p>
<p>“Jem, I’m a specialist. That’s my job. You’re a scientist. You belong in a lab!”</p>
<p>“Oh right.” She nods and slams the second slide onto the table and steps back, hands on her hips. “I forgot. ‘<em>I’m Agent Grant Ward and I’m invincible and don’t give any regard to other’s opinions and feelings, especially my wife’s</em>.’”</p>
<p>“Jem,” the imitation makes him roll his eyes and he crosses his arms.</p>
<p>“Stop calling me that.”</p>
<p>“While we’re out here, my job is to take risk assessments and protect you. I wouldn’t forgive myself if you got hurt.”</p>
<p>“You never seemed to be concerned about that before.” She says softly after a pause. He considers the statement and looks away to avoid the pained expression in her eyes.</p>
<p>As he looks away, he takes note of a Polaroid jammed into one of the half lockers. He walks over without thinking and plucks the small picture out.</p>
<p>“Where’s Amelia?” His fingers graze over the image.</p>
<p>“With my parents.”</p>
<p>He lets out a hollow laugh. His fingers skim over his daughter’s face once more. If she was with his in-laws, he’s sure Jemma explained what had happened. If that was the case, there was no doubt that they would attempt to keep Amelia as far away as possible.</p>
<p>He pockets the photo as the lab doors slide open. Jemma glances at him but doesn’t protest.</p>
<p>“You’re up next Simmons.” Fitz announces.</p>
<p>“I’ll get right up there then.” She sounds cheerful as she disappears from the lab.</p>
<p>The men share a glare before Grant also departs from the lab. He’s already regretting this assignment.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Jemma knew the risks of falling in love with a specialist. The long missions, sketchy lifestyle, the danger, the likely death.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It would have been so much easier and convenient to have loved a scientist- to love Fitz even.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>But six weeks after graduating from the Academy, she sees Grant Ward across the lobby of the Triskelion and she’s a lost cause.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s being led by Agent Hill in one direction while Grant stands stoically at the side of several older men. His hands clasped tightly in front of him but his eyes examine the room and she swears they land on her.</em>
</p><hr/><p>He attempts to stand quickly when he hears the door to his bunk open.</p><p>“Oh, it’s you.” There’s no hiding his relief when Jemma slips in and closes the door behind her. He drops back onto the mattress with a grunt and puts a hand over his bruised and likely broken ribs. Being squished between Peterson, a marquee, and then smashed into the floor apparently didn't suit him.</p><p>“Are you deranged?” She hisses and crosses the small space. She slaps a water bottle and syringe down onto his night stand, then reaches into her pocket and pulls out a rolled bandage.</p><p>“Where are the others?”</p><p>“Skye and Coulson took Ace to his aunt’s. Fitz went on a food run and May is preparing for our departure. Why are you trying to move around when you are clearly injured?”</p><p>“Did you come here to lecture me Agent Simmons?”</p><p>“I might strangle you with these bandages.” She mutters and he briefly lifts his eyebrows at her. “You were supposed to come down after the debrief and get checked out.”</p><p>“I was fine.”</p><p>“Clearly.”</p><p>“Look,” he props himself up on an elbow and grits his teeth at the pain that causes.</p><p>“Oh shut up, really. Come here,” she helps him sit up completely, then pulls his shirt over his head and eyes the bruising that has already formed. “Oh Grant. Turn around.”</p><p>In another life, he tied that breathy sigh of his name to other activities. He doesn’t even think she realizes she said his name. Judging by the noise she makes, his back is no better than his chest. He turns back to face her when she taps his shoulder.</p><p>“We have things to do so don’t knock me out.”</p><p>“We would surely get some peace that way. It’s only a way to get you to move around without looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Your secret will be safe with me.” She uncaps the syringe and gives a small shrug. “Except Coulson, of course, as this will be going in my field report.”</p><p>“So you weren’t just doing this out of the goodness of your heart.” His eye twitches as she jabs the syringe directly into the vein at his elbow.</p><p>“I’m the closest thing to a team medic so I expect you’ll be seeing a lot of me.”</p><p>“I’ll be in good hands then.”</p><p>She keeps her head down as she reaches for the bandages but he sees the faint stretch of a smile start to form.</p><p>She starts to wrap his chest, working quietly and tediously.</p><p>“You were amazing today.” He mutters.</p><p>“Ah, well, all in a day’s work I suppose.” She replies, a faint blush to her cheeks.</p><p>“Do you typically find stabilizers for Extremis in under two hours as part of a day’s work?”</p><p>She hums and ducks her head.</p><p>“It was more than just Extremis in there. Plus, you're not too bad of a shot. Lift your arm for me.” She mutters and he obeys with a wince. “Too tight?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Good,” she gives the bandages another tug, just to make sure, then secures it in place.</p><p>“Thank you.” He lowers his arm and he can’t help himself. His fingers skim across her cheek, brushing back the strands of hair falling in front of her eyes.</p><p>“Don’t.” Her rejection is soft, so unlike their last time they were alone.</p><p>“My apologies. I didn’t mean to overstep Agent Simmons.”</p><p>“The injection should last eight hours.” She says, her voice slightly rough. She turns away and grabs the water bottle to hold out to him. “Let me know if you’re experiencing any trouble breathing or excruciating pain. Drink all of that. When I tested the medication on myself, I felt rather dehydrated afterwards.”</p><p>He nods and notes silently that the medication is already working. He pulls on a clean t-shirt and decides the fact that she didn’t run right out was a good thing.</p><p>“How’s Amelia?”</p><p>Her eyes find the picture he tacked up hours ago. The only sign of life that someone actually inhabited these quarters. He stares as well. Life as a specialist was bare, minimal. When you’re on the road, there’s no ties. Couldn’t afford any hint that could be used against him. Life under John Garrett was even more so.</p><p>How many nights had he pictured his family, only from memory? Now, in the safety of Coulson’s plane, at least he has a shred of tangible evidence that they actually exist.</p><p>“Growing like a weed.” Jemma says and he suddenly realizes she answered his question. She turns to him with a sad smile. “She misses you like something fierce.”</p><p>He won’t admit his heart aches at that but his eyes must betray him because her expression turns to pity.</p><p>“Smart as ever. A bit weepy when I dropped her off but Dad’s promise of hunting for fairies captured her attention quite quickly.” She glances down at his night stand and swipes her hand across the top, as if clearing away dust. He knows the look on her face. It’s one he contends with every day.</p><p>“She’ll be fine with your parents.” He says that to himself every day. But now it’s <em>she’ll be fine with your parents</em> instead of <em>she’ll be fine with Jemma</em>.</p><p>“I know.” She forces herself to meet his eye and he thinks he’s not supposed to see the tears beginning to form. “I read up on a lot of child development studies. She’s still so young that I’m sure none of our absences will have a major effect on her.”</p><p>She gives a shrug, like it’s no big deal their four year old may not have either parent soon. Morbid but realistic. Hell, there have been plenty of missions he barely scraped by with his life. The thought of Jemma actually going out into the field … he shakes his head slightly, as if to rid himself of the image.</p><p>He supposes that her comment is aimed more at him but she gets a little distant gaze and for a moment the walls come down.</p><p>“Does it get easier?” She whispers. He curls his hands into fists to stop from reaching out to her.</p><p>He had learned long ago to not be affected by anything. To train out any emotion. But then there was Jemma and he was a lost cause. The sight of even a minute level of displeasure in her could invoke a fiery response inside of him.</p><p>And when Jemma cries, well fuck. All bets were off at that point.</p><p>“No.” He finally says. God, he misses her. Misses Amelia, misses being in the safety of their own home, without SHIELD and without HYDRA, no one to bother them, misses just being himself.</p><p>For a long time, he didn’t even know who that was.</p><p>But he’s a specialist and he’s damn good at it and when he’s away, when he’s active, it’s easy to compartmentalize. But when it’s quiet, it’s so fucking hard.</p><p>And whatever game Coulson is playing at is going to make his lives damn near impossible.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Grant knows this is not going to end well.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>First of all, she tries killing him the first time they officially meet. Though Jemma will argue and say it wasn’t technically her fault. Fitz shouldn’t leave random devices laying around without explicit instructions. And Grant shouldn’t storm into laboratories he knows nothing about because anything could be wandering about. Like flying blades of death. (“A prototype.” Fitz grumbles).</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Second of all, John will be absolutely against it. He thinks of Buddy and tells himself he’s being ridiculous. Jemma is a woman. An insanely intelligent and beautiful woman. She’s not a dog or a pet.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Still, he keeps her to himself all the same.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What did you want to be when you grew up?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The question stuns him. He’s not overly talkative and for all his strength and might, it’s Jemma who is the strong one in the relationship. She is the one who takes charge and leads him about, cracking into his thick walls like those artifacts she loves to investigate.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Grant?”</em>
</p><hr/><p>It hasn’t even been a month. Not even a month and his worst fucking fear has come true.</p><p>He stares at her through the door and feels utterly helpless. Fitz is there, pacing outside like a wild animal and muttering to himself.</p><p>“Get lost.” He grabs the younger man by the shoulder but his fury is only turned on to Grant.</p><p>“I won’t.”</p><p>“I need a minute with her.”</p><p>“You don’t deserve a minute.” The glare he receives only fuels the rage he feels. He’s never really been a fan of Fitz. He can appreciate his intellect and he’ll never admit that some of the shit he comes up with is astounding but it’s so fucking obvious his feelings for Jemma. (Grant’s not good at sharing. Never has been but Jemma is a whole other story).</p><p>He’s sure Fitz was the one Jemma leaned on months ago and he’s sure Fitz would love to jam that damn helmet on his head, just for the pleasure of seeing him roast from the inside out.</p><p>“Five minutes. And if you don’t leave, I’ll make sure you leave.” He growls.</p><p>Sure, Jemma kicked him to the curb six months ago but she’s still his wife. He’ll never sign those fucking papers. Fitz could go fuck himself, trying to prance around like some knight in shining armor.</p><p>He goes stomping off up the stairs and once he’s out of sight, Grant approaches the door.</p><p>“How’s it coming?”</p><p>“Did you come here to lecture me Agent Ward?”</p><p>“I came to check on you Jem. I - I’m sorry.” His hands curl into fists and he feels that stab of helplessness. He’s used to muscling his way through situations. He can’t throw his fists at this one.</p><p>“It’s not working. Nothing is working.” Her hands shake as she handles the vials. She looks up at him and he swears his heart breaks.</p><p>He doesn’t remember a time where she looked this bad, not when she had horrendous morning sickness with Amelia, not even when she had the flu that year. But on top of that she’s scared and he can’t fix that.</p><p>“Promise me that you’ll be good to Amelia. I don’t want - she needs you Grant. I don’t expect you to give it all up but don’t just disappear on her.”</p><p>“Jem,”</p><p>“Please. And I want her …” she lets out a wet sob. “I want her to know how sorry I am and that she was always everything and this stupid position I …”</p><p>“Jem,”</p><p>“I shouldn’t have come. This was such an idiotic …”</p><p>“Jemma!” He smashes both palms into the glass and she jumps. He doesn’t know what startles her more - that he used her full name or his little outburst. “Come here,”</p><p>She shudders and gently places down the vial, then walks to him. His hands are still braced on the glass and she presses hers on the opposite side.</p><p>“Grant, I’m so scared.” She mutters and drops her forehead to the glass as well. He can see the tears staining her cheeks and he wants nothing more than to be inside there.</p><p>“You’re going to figure it out Jem. You always do.”</p><p>“There’s not enough time.”</p><p>“Stop looking at the clock.” Pretty hypocritical coming from him, considering the timer counting down in his pocket. “Take a deep breath baby.”</p><p>“Amelia,”</p><p>“You’ll talk to her in a few.”</p><p>“Just promise me.”</p><p>“I promise. Jem, I swear I will always do everything in my power to protect our baby and be what she needs, alright? But she needs you more than she needs me and that’s why you’re going to figure it out.”</p><p>She sucks in a breath, then releases it with a nod.</p><p>“I can do this.”</p><p>“And Fitz is going to help.”</p><p>He retreats to the upper level at that point, perched on the walkway right above the lab, like he’s fucking Barton, and waits.</p><p>There’s still fifteen minutes on the clock and he turns away for three. He comes back to find the cargo ramp open and Fitz fumbling with a parachute. He doesn’t need to be a genius to know what just happened. And he blames himself. If he didn’t turn away, he could have stopped her. </p><p>He vaults himself over the railing and lands in a crouch before sprinting toward the engineer. He yanks the taser and the parachute out of his hands, not listening as he begins to ramble. But he hears “she jumped” and he forces it away as he lunges out of the plane.</p><p>She’s going to beat him when she finds out he didn’t even have the damn parachute on properly. His brain is on autopilot, calculating velocity and their altitude and her weight. And he prays that he’s not too late.</p><p>He spots her only seconds later and urges himself to go further and faster. He is not about to let this happen. Then she’s there, so close, and he adjusts himself to reach out and she’s reaching for him too.</p><p>He gets an arm around her as her fingers tighten around the straps of the parachute. He presses the taser to her thigh and prays Fitz knows what he’s talking about.</p><p>There’s a soft woosh and a pulse of light, then she collapses to his chest. He panics briefly, then remember the rat collapsed as well before regaining consciousness.</p><p>It’s fine.</p><p>Except for the fact they’re about to land in the Atlantic but that’s a small feat compared to alien viruses and sky diving.</p><p>They’re treading water for about ten minutes before he feels her stir.</p><p>“Jem,” he lifts her head gently, cupping her cheek in one hand as she blinks dazedly at him. “You okay?”</p><p>She simply nods and puts her head back on his shoulder, too exhausted for anything else.</p><p>“It’s okay.” His voice is hoarse as he moves his hand to cup the back of her head. “I got you Jem. It’s over.”</p><hr/><p>He holds out a bottle to Fitz. The other man stares at the beer, as if he’s never seen it before, then lifts his head to look at Grant.</p><p>“Is it poisoned?”</p><p>“More like a peace offering.” He snorts and sits once Fitz accepts. “Besides if it was, she’d figure out the antidote.”</p><p>He jerks his chin in Jemma’s direction, where she’s sitting across the lounge with Skye. She happens to meet his gaze and he sees the slight furrow but he just tips his head. He will behave himself.</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I said thanks.” He keeps his eyes on his own bottle and picks at the label. “Without you, it wouldn’t have been possible.”</p><p>“You’re the one that rescued her.”</p><p>“I jumped out of a plane after her because I knew how to do that at least. If you hadn’t figured out the science part, that plunge wouldn’t have made one difference. Take the win Fitz.”</p><p>“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her. For Amelia.”</p><p>“I know. But she’s here because of you and that’s enough for me.” </p><hr/><p>He’s seen horrible things. Unspeakable things. And he always managed to sleep after. (Except kids now since Amelia because he sees his daughter instead and it makes him sick to wonder).</p><p>But the sight of Jemma tumbling through the air sticks with him and he stares at the ceiling of the Bus, unable to let it go.</p><p>The bunks go in alphabetical order, Coulson’s way of settling arguments about which was the best like they were damn kindergarteners, so that means she is just on the other side of the partition.</p><p>It’s been a blessing and a curse. They follow the same sleep schedule, a remanent of their time living together.</p><p>The bunks aren’t soundproof so he listens as she moves around and he can see her as clear as day in his mind, getting ready for bed same as she would at home. But he can also hear one sided conversations when she calls her parents and speaks to their daughter. She leaves her headphones in, maybe as a way to punish him so that he can’t hear Amelia’s giggles and high pitched voice. Or maybe she pities him and knows how it hurts to not see her.</p><p>He tries closing his eyes again and there is Jemma tumbling. He immediately opens them again and listens to the faint movement outside his door.</p><p>It slides open a moment later and she’s standing there. She hesitates only for a moment, then slips inside completely and slides the door shut to seal them in.</p><p>He rolls onto his side and moves back against the wall. It’s not a large bunk but they make do and she stares at him through the darkness.</p><p>Her hand finds his and he doesn’t fight the shudder that runs through him as she begins to trace her nail over his palm.</p><p>It was one of their things. A way to communicate silently when they were together without others knowing.</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>How did you know it was me?</em>
  </b>
</p><p>He smiles faintly at her question and traces out a response.</p><p>
  <em>You’re a terrible spy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <b>Stick to my day job?</b>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Definitely.</em>
</p><p>She chuckles and her breath tickles his face. She’s so damn close to him.</p><p>He tries to think of the last time they laid together like this and fails.</p><p>She has her hair pulled into a braid but her bangs hang in her eyes. When he brushes them back, he feels tears as well and he moves closer, trying to make her feel as secure as possible.</p><p>He can’t count the number of wrong choices he has made as a husband and this is probably one of them because he knows come morning, she’s going to feel different and pretend to be professional. But she came to him and he wasn’t going to let her wallow in whatever fears she currently had.</p><p>She tucks herself under his chin and he feels his t-shirt grow wet with tears.</p><p>He rubs her back gently, then traces.</p><p>
  <em>I got you.</em>
</p><p>Her response is to simply hold him tighter.</p><hr/><p>“Anyone see Ward? It’s 6:09. He’s late.”</p><p>Skye’s voice forces his eyes open. It’s part confusion, part glee - that she’s caught him in some kind of slip up. He’s got a mouthful of Jemma’s hair and she makes a quiet noise, feeling him move. Or maybe Skye’s loud mouth does the trick.</p><p>“Judging by the closed door, he’s sleeping.” Coulson replies and there’s a soft clink, like a mug being placed on the glass. “Use a coaster.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Skye mutters.</p><p>“Oh no.” Jemma mumbles and sits up, her face nearly as red as her hair. Her back is to him but she turns slightly to look over her shoulder at him.</p><p>Just as he suspected, he detects a level of regret.</p><p>“I can’t find Simmons either.” Fitz says. “It’s not like her to not be in the lab by 5:30. She’s an early riser, especially ever since …”</p><p>She grimaces and he knows what her friend is about to say: ever since Amelia. Their daughter has always been a horrible sleeper.</p><p>“Ever since what?” Skye prods.</p><p>“Oh uh,” Fitz stammers and Grant can picture him wringing his hands and wiping his palms on his jeans.</p><p>“Judging by the closed door, she’s sleeping.” Coulson says. Another clink. “Didn’t I just say use a coaster?”</p><p>The next clink is a little more forceful, defiant, and the lack of verbal response is enough to let him know May is also outside.</p><p>Jemma clearly realizes this as well and she squirms as she grimaces.</p><p>Grant takes her hand gently and she focuses her gaze back on him.</p><p>
  <em>It’s okay. Can’t sit there forever.</em>
</p><p>He mouths the words this time and she rolls her eyes but nods. They’ll just wait it out.</p><p>But it feels like forever and they watch each other as they listen to the others go about their morning.</p><p>Even though he hardly slept, he feels more recharged than he has lately. Being a specialist is draining in many ways but she was always there when he eventually made his way home and even though she’s not able to get every classified detail, she was always able to make him feel human again.</p><p>Jemma has that way about her - just breaking down his barriers and accepting him, showing there was more to Grant Ward than the agent and simply being human is good enough.</p><p>
  <em>He’s exhausted.</em>
</p><p>“… y’know, like together.” He only catches the end of Skye’s sentence but her tone and the redness of Jemma’s cheeks tells him the rest. He can already see the suggestive eyebrow waggle the hacker is surely giving.</p><p>“That’s not funny.” Fitz says harshly. Perhaps too harshly and Grant would pay to see the others’ expressions. No, Fitz would definitely be the first to revolt if he and Jemma reconciled. <em>When</em>. <em>When they reconcile.</em></p><p>“No it’s not.” He says, voice raised enough that they can hear him over the wall.</p><p>“I wasn’t,” Skye starts to protest but he cuts her off.</p><p>“I think I’m allowed a few extra minutes of beauty rest after jumping out of a plane Skye. That doesn’t make you immune from your regiment. You know what you’re supposed to be doing.” He pauses, listening for the slightest sound. “Why are you still sitting there?”</p><p>She huffs like a teenager and stomps off towards the cargo hold.</p><p><em>Be nice</em>.</p><p>He looks over at Jemma and despite the accusations, she’s smiling, like she took pleasure out of his scolding.</p><p>Fitz is the next to leave, muttering something about upgrading the Dwarfs, and then there are faint footfalls that are May returning to the cockpit.</p><p>Coulson doesn’t move and Grant expects that he won’t. He’s not going to get suckered into a game of stalemate with him. He knew the details when he recruited them both.</p><p>He eases his way out from behind Jemma, squeezing her shoulder gently as he goes.</p><p>She inhales a deep breath and nods when he looks at her for confirmation.</p><p>He slides the door open and Coulson smiles from his spot on the couch.</p><p>“Good morning Ward. Your protégée was concerned for your well being.”</p><p>“So I heard.”</p><p>“Good morning Simmons. Coffee?”</p><p>Jemma stands at Grant’s side, barely grazing his shoulder. His eyes flick to her briefly, then back to Coulson.</p><p>“The closed door was a nice touch.” He points to Jemma’s bunk, still sealed and protecting her cover. “We’re not going to have a problem are we?”</p><p>“Of course not. We just couldn’t sleep. It’s normal for people to share similar experiences after a traumatic event.” Jemma smiles and disappears into her own bunk. Grant blinks and stares after her, maybe a little too long because he suddenly realizes Coulson is smirking at him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Jemma is used to Grant being gone.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She’s learned to cope with the gaps and the silences and knows how to keep her brain busy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She trusts him wholeheartedly and she trusts the system of course but Grant is not invincible, even if he thinks otherwise.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So there’s always that underlying layer of fear.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And when he comes home - he always comes home - she holds onto him tightly, silently pleading to just stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He never stays.</em>
</p><hr/><p>“I heard an interesting story today.”</p><p>She jumps at his voice and spins on her heel to face him.</p><p>“Don’t sneak up on me like that.” She jabs him in the chest with her index finger and turns back to the supply closet she’s organizing.</p><p>It’s down the short hall from the lab, mostly secluded, and she just needs some space.</p><p>“It’s kind of my speciality.”</p><p>Grant has all kinds of specialities - many she prefers not to think of.</p><p>“So do you want to hear the story?” He leans against a shelving unit, examines various items, and she can almost trick herself into believing they are home. She gets a flash of Amelia’s most recent birthday, of making a cake and him leaning on the counter, sticking his finger in the batter just to irritate her.</p><p>“What’s that?” She plucks the pack of gauze out of his hands and gives him a look that clearly says <em>stop touching things.</em></p><p>“That you shot Agent Sitwell in order to hack operations files at the Hub.”</p><p>“Ah, yes, well, that was …” she stumbles over her words, cheeks bright red. He’s watching her in amusement and she groans as she shuts her eyes. “Oh don’t look so smug. I didn’t do it for you.”</p><p>But she did. She so did. Because she may be an expert at living as a specialist’s wife but it was completely different when she was on top of it, not however many miles away he could have been. And Skye’s incessant pestering broke through every boundary she has ever created to deal with Grant’s absences.</p><p>“Thank you.” The amusement and smugness drops from his face and he looks sincere. She deflates slightly and shakes her head.</p><p>“I didn’t think it would be this hard.” She mutters, running a hand along her forehead. “But you know you saved my life a few weeks ago. It was the least I could do and I wasn’t going to let the father of my child be abandoned by our organization if there was a way out and …”</p><p>“Jem,”</p><p>“… I tried just trusting the system but I … Grant.” She suddenly realizes he’s stepped forward and she backs into the opposite shelf and swallows. The supply closet is not huge by any means but it’s difficult to fit two people in here and he’s in whatever personal space she had to begin with.</p><p>Which isn’t a big deal. They’ve done much worse in much smaller places. And she’s been sneaking into his bed every night since she jumped out of the plane but she’s only doing that for comfort.</p><p>She’s a strong, intelligent, independent woman and she fiercely supports women being their own saviors. It’s just that Grant means safety and despite everything that happened, he’s still her home in so many ways, still the person who knows her best outside of Fitz, and still where she wants to go when she needs comfort.</p><p>But this is different. Every urge she has stifled is swimming to the top. She won’t but God she wants to. Love was never a problem. Desire and attraction were never a problem.</p><p>The problem is she’s just not strong enough to be a specialist’s wife and all the secret baggage that comes with it.</p><p>“I thought I was going to die down there.” He says quietly and her heart twinges. “I was going to stay back and let Fitz go.”</p><p>“That’s very big of you.”</p><p>“I know how much he means to you.” He moves even closer and slouches. He presses his mouth against her forehead and she closes her eyes. “Jem, we’ve had two close calls in as many weeks.”</p><p>“And you think that justifies this?” She weakly waves a hand between them.</p><p>“I won’t stop loving you.”</p><p>“Don’t say that.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because it just makes it harder.” She whispers as his hands come up to cup her face. “Damn you Grant.”</p><p>He kisses her. Gently at first and her hands circle his wrists.</p><p>She should stop this. She <em>has</em> to stop this. But damn it, if he doesn’t ignite something dangerous inside her.</p><p>He pulls his head back, just to gauge her reaction, but she quickly tugs him back in a messy, heated kiss.</p><p>How has it been six months since she touched him?</p><p>She’s straining to reach him, pushed up on her toes, to get a better grip on him. He lifts her like she’s weightless and sandwiches her between his chest and the shelves so they’re face to face.</p><p>“I missed you.” He says in an earnest tone as she plants kisses along his cheeks and his jaw. “So damn much Jem. We can’t do this, being apart from each other.”</p><p>“Please stop talking.” She kisses him on the mouth and that gets him going all over again. It’s sloppy and rough as they clash for control over it. He huffs a laugh against her lips and gives up. He has better ways of pleasuring her.</p><p>“Oh God,” she digs her nails into his back as he moves his mouth down her jaw and onto her neck. Her eyes roll back as he sucks furiously on the spot that drives her crazy, marking her, making up for lost time. One hand is squeezing her ass and his hips are grinding against hers.</p><p>There’s a crash not too far down the hall, followed by Fitz’s exclamation. It’s enough to jerk her back into reality.</p><p>“Oh my God!” She pushes at his shoulders and even though she could never forcibly move him, he steps back and sets her gently on her feet. </p><p>“Jem,” he licks his lips, eyes wide, and she begins reciting chemistry facts in her head. It’s just chemistry. Just basic chemistry and biology. This absolutely means nothing.</p><p>“We can’t do this.” She straightens her shirt and brushes her hair out of her face. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and a smear of her lipstick follows his path. “God, this is exactly what I was afraid of.”</p><hr/><p>“You have a hickey.” Skye declares and Jemma flushes all the way down to her toes. “Who’ve you been making out with?”</p><p>“I burned myself … in the lab … leaning over things.” She stutters and fumbles with her collar. The other woman raises her eyebrows.</p><p>“You know I just saw you attempt lying and it didn’t go very well. And we’ve been on the plane for six hours now. And that wasn’t there when we came onto the plane.”</p><p>“Yes, because it was a very recent burn.” She presses her face to the microscope and wishes she could disappear inside, as small as those molecules she’s pretending to see. But all she sees is Grant’s dark head making its way down. Much, much further down than it had actually gone. She bites down on her lip and takes a deep breath.</p><p>“I bet it was.” Skye leans in close, conspiratorially even. “It was Fitz right? Totally understandable since he almost died. You guys are totally in sync and he really didn’t like that joke I made about you and Ward.”</p><p>“What? No! No, no, it’s not like that. We are friends. Partners.”</p><p>“Simmons, you get those tests done yet?”</p><p>She jumps as Grant strolls in and nearly knocks over a beaker in the process.</p><p>“They are processing now.” She says, smoothing down the front of her sweater. He nods and stares at her. His eyes graze over the mark and how he manages to keep his face neutral, she’ll never understand it. “Was there anything else Ward?”</p><p>“You okay? You seem… tense.” There it is. That devilish glint that could be a trick of the light but she knows better.</p><p>He’s teasing her. Bloody bastard. Well, of course she’s tense! They nearly had sex in the supply closet with their team only feet away! And the horrible thing is, she’s not tense because they almost got caught but because they didn’t finish. Hell, they hadn’t even started.</p><p>She nods mutely, squeezes her thighs together, and wonders how the bloody hell is she supposed to act natural when he’s staring at her like that.</p><p>Skye glances between them, frowns, and lifts a hand.</p><p>“What?” Grant regards her with a cool stare and crosses his arms. “And also, whatever you’re about to say, keep in mind your afternoon training session is about to begin.”</p><p>“I was just being a good field agent, taking in all the details.” She shrugs and walks to the doors. Behind Grant’s back, she grins and winks at Jemma, who can only grimace.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A light knock on the side of his bunk has Grant sighing.</p><p>“Yeah,” he gives his approval to his guest and the door slides open to reveal Jemma. His impending irritation immediately softens. “Hey,”</p><p>“That doesn’t look like proper ergonomics there. You know there are good chairs and tables all over this plane.”</p><p>He snorts and nods. He was stretched out on his bed, propped up on an elbow, as he completed a routine assessment on his laptop.</p><p>“Yeah, just wanted a little privacy.” The only time he ever gets any now is when that door is closed. The whole reason he’s sprawled out and not rigid like his cover would be.</p><p>“Sorry.” She takes a step back and he drops the pen he is chewing on.</p><p>“Not you. You can stay.” He sits up and closes his laptop to make room for her. She stays in the doorway instead. “What’s up?”</p><p>They’re grounded just outside of Seattle. Coulson and May had been pulled into some high level meeting that they were not supposed to know about, giving the rest of them some needed downtime. Skye had dragged Fitz off into the city after learning he had never been to the Space Needle.</p><p>Jemma had feigned a headache and urged them to go have fun. She thought Fitz might have a little bit of a crush and didn’t need her coming along as a third wheel.</p><p>She also may have had her own ulterior motives and did not need a third or fourth wheel to her own plans.</p><p>“Fitz and Skye went to sightsee. I was hoping I could interest you in a game of Scrabble.”</p><p>“Scrabble, huh?”</p><p>“Thought it might be fun.” She shrugs, then adds, “For old time’s sake.”</p><p>He glances at his laptop and she shrugs again.</p><p>“Unless you’re busy. I understand.”</p><p>“No, I’d… I’d like that. I think the yearly SHIELD Employee Handbook Review can wait a little longer.”</p><p>“Has yours come up again already?” She wrinkles her nose in displeasure. “I suppose mine will pop up soon enough.”</p><p>“Nothing changed. I think they rephrased a few statements.”</p><p>“It never does.” She scoffs. He moves by her to exit the bunk and their chests brush as she turns sideways to let him through. She trails her hand over his forearm as he passes.</p><p>He’s been driving her crazy since they boarded the Bus.</p><p>She knows the game he is playing, trying to be gruff and not get attached to the rest of the team. She’s knows it because it was the same thing he did to her when they first met.</p><p>But every now and then, a piece of <em>her</em> Grant slips through. A small smirk or a glance that lasts just a second too long. If they pass each other, a part of them always seemed to touch somehow, even for the briefest moment. </p><p>Not to mention the whole jumping out of the plane for her, <em>to save her</em>, and then the little make out in the closet moment.</p><p>And then there’s the whole comforting her at night deal going on too.</p><p>And her thoughts keep going back to the closet.</p><p>She thinks there must be something wrong in her brain. She makes excuses, trying to see the logic behind his actions, anything to justify her feelings still.</p><p>She misses her husband. She <em>wants</em> her husband. She <b>needs</b> her husband.</p><p>Because that night was <em>not</em> her husband and now that she’s had way more than enough time to process things, she’s determined to prove that.</p><p>So she’s going to do what she does best and conduct an experiment. It’s not the easiest to do when Grant is hiding behind his walls but now they’re alone and the walls are down.</p><hr/><p>“Glue? That’s the best you can do?”</p><p>“For now.”</p><p>“You know, you shouldn’t hold onto larger tiles in a gamble to make better words. You’ll get stuck losing all those points when I beat you.” She gives him a look over the top of her glass and he merely raises his eyebrows at her. ”I’m just trying to help!”</p><p>“Help? Like when you threw half the tiles into the fire that one time?”</p><p>“You startled me! And I didn’t throw them. I knocked the board over and you know it!” She shrieks at him and he chuckles into his beer. “You make it sound like I was chucking fistfuls of tiles into the flames, like I’m some sort of sore loser.”</p><p>“It probably wasn’t the best idea to sit right next to the fireplace.”</p><p>“Of course it was. The power went out and that was our only source of heat.”</p><p>“Not our only source.” He mutters as she spells out vanish on the board. He counters with sex and she tilts her head at him. “That’s 10, and it’s a triple word. 30 points for me.”</p><p>“You are a juvenile.” But she marks down his score and scans her rack.</p><p>“Do you remember last Christmas you thought it would be a good idea to have Amelia play with us to help with her reading?”</p><p>“Mm,” she smiles and nods. “I seem to remember you giving her points for invalid words and making the exercise completely irrelevant.”</p><p>She notes her own score for gamut and reaches for the pouch to grab her new tiles but grabs his hand instead.</p><p>“Sorry. Just realized I never took mine.”</p><p>“If you wanted to hold my hand, all you had to do was ask.” She says, only slightly teasing. He glances up at her through his eyelashes as he sorts his new letters. She takes her own tiles and slides the others around to make room.</p><p>“And what would you have said?” He asks after a brief silence.</p><p>This is her territory. They both know it. He had made it painfully obvious in the closet how he felt. He had been against the separation from the start. He would take her back in a heartbeat.</p><p>“I’m not going to force myself on you Jem. I’m sorry for the way I acted the other day.” He mutters and spells out palm. She writes down his score and considers her options.</p><p>“I seem to recall taking a rather active role in there.”</p><p>“And changed your mind.”</p><p>“I thought we were going to get caught.” She says softly. “And I was impulsive. I had been telling myself that we could work together without all the pieces falling right back into place.”</p><p>She spells out ward on the board and his mouth twitches.</p><p>“We just fit too well with together.” She adds and reaches across the board for his hand. She laces their fingers together and gives him a gentle squeeze. “I’m not making any promises. It’s not going to happen overnight but I might enjoy a good date here and there.”</p><p>“Is that what this is? My favorite sandwich, my favorite beer, my favorite game.” He smiles slightly, and adds, “My favorite woman.”</p><p>He toys with her fingers and skims the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. She simply smiles at him in return.</p><p>They each play several more words until he plays his final tiles to turn mar into marry.</p><p>“I’m out. Tiles please.” He circles his finger to motion for her to turn the rack. She sighs, even though her heart skips a beat, and shows him the three vowels she has left. She notes the final points and begins to scan over the numbers to tally up the score. “I’ll take that.”</p><p>“I’m already working on it.”</p><p>“I prefer to see the math.”</p><p>“Might I remind you that I am a literal genius?”</p><p>“And might I remind you,” he retorts in a posh tone that sounds nothing like her, “that you gave yourself an additional twenty points last time?”</p><p>“A woman is allowed to make a mistake from time to time.”</p><p>“Yeah, a mistake that just happened to put you one point over my own score. You play dirty and don’t even deny it.” He smirks at her as he accepts the notepad and pencil.</p><p>She watches him silently as he adds. His tongue pokes through his teeth slightly as he concentrates, then he sets the pencil down.</p><p>“I won.”</p><p>“By 15.” She states without needing to see the paper. His mouth curls up into a grin. “Well, I suppose it’s only fair that you receive a prize in return for fighting so valiantly.”</p><p>“Is that so?” He sits back in his seat as she stands to make the short walk around the edge of the table.</p><p>She sits herself on his lap and curls an arm over his shoulders. His own arm winds around her waist as she cups his jaw softly.</p><p>“Loser has to kiss the winner.” She murmurs, the old standby agreement they joked about long ago.</p><p>He pushes her hair back behind her ear as she tips her head to his. She places a chaste kiss against his mouth and lingers there for a moment.</p><p>Then she kisses him again and he pulls her closer. It’s nothing like their frenzied encounter in the closet. It’s slow and sweet and reminds her of their reunions when he would come home after a mission. Just curled up together and able to block the rest of the world out.</p><p>A beep alerts them to the cargo ramp being opened and Lola’s faint purr can be heard as Coulson and May return.</p><p>He pulls back and strokes a thumb over her cheekbone.</p><p>“Thanks for the game.” The boyish smile he gives her makes her heart flip.</p><p><em>I found you</em>, she thinks, and slips off his lap.</p><p>“We got a mission.” May says when she enters a few moments later. “Fitz and Skye are on their way back. We’ll leave as soon as they’re on.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A/N: Just a head’s up that this chapter contains a small mention of a past argument between Grant &amp; Jemma that briefly turned physical in case anyone prefers not to read/skip. It is about halfway through the chapter, when they are speaking in the hotel.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Grant doesn’t scare easily. He’s been shot, diffused bombs within seconds of detonation, dropped out of planes, tortured for information.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s seen it all and likely has done it all as well. (Except this).</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He is fucking terrified of Jemma Simmons. He’s scared of her, for her, to be with her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He doesn’t want to hurt her. He doesn’t trust himself. He doesn’t trust anyone. (John wouldn’t. He wants Grant content. But he thinks of Buddy. Attachments are weaknesses.)</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But Jemma is fearless. She smiles prettily at him and doesn’t sway under his cold demeanor. Jemma is the one to take the plunge and ask him out. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He is reassigned to the field office in Seville and doesn’t expect to see her. Yet there she is, just outside the lab, admonishing Fitz as he fails to juggle the numerous items she continues to hand him.<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Agent Ward!” She smiles when she spots him. She even looks happy to see him. (He doesn’t know anyone who is ever happy to see him). She leans in with a teasing look and elbows him faintly in the ribs. “I’m beginning to think you’re following me. Us. I mean us!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It does seem that way. Fitz-Simmons are in high demand, being carted around the globe to various offices, and Grant always seems to be a few weeks behind them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“When did you get into town?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Three days ago.”<br/></em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, welcome! It’s beautiful here! Have you gotten to explore at all? If you’d like, I’d be happy to give you some pointers. There’s a delicious tapas place just down the street.” She rambles and the comment seems to happen without her thinking of it. Fitz makes some type of noise and Grant feels perplexed, but his gaze remains cool. Her cheeks turn bright red. “I mean only if you’d like. Of course you’re under no obligation to join. Just thought perhaps if you’d like some adventure. Let’s go Fitz!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He thinks he gets enough adventure as it is but he doesn’t get to give his rejection, as she’s dragging her best friend down the hall in the opposite direction.</em>
</p><hr/><p>There’s a part of Grant that knows he is scaring Jemma. He’s scaring all of them, he’s sure, but he can feel how nervous she is as she tries to run a check-up on him.</p><p>He trusts Jemma with his life and she’s really the only one he’ll put up with poking and prodding him. He’s not the greatest patient, even under normal circumstances, and she knows that.</p><p>If it was just them, maybe it’d be better. She’s nervous but she’s fighting to stay calm for his sake, not to make this any worse than this already is.</p><p>But Fitz and Skye keep butting in, when all he wants is to be left alone and watch Randolph’s interrogation. And he loses it, can’t stand Skye trying to be nice, can’t stand Jemma trying to rationalize this when he’s essentially been hopped up on Asgardian steroids, can’t stand Fitz’s snarky comments about his attitude.</p><p>He heads for the showers after his fight with the punching bag. The whole while he felt Jemma watching from the safety of the lab. She didn’t try to come approach him, even when May did.</p><p>He lays his forehead against the tile as the water pours over him. His brain is being assaulted by the memory of the well but underneath it, he sees Jemma. Her anxiety, the vain attempt at a calming presence, the disappointed look she gave when he called Fitz out on his lack of bravery.</p><p>His fists clench and he knows he needs to get out of here before he breaks his hand. He quickly finishes cleaning up, then opens the door to reach for his towel. When he steps out, he nearly slips when he sees her standing near the sink. He could’ve sworn he locked the door.</p><p>“What the hell are you doing?” He snaps. She flinches at his tone but remains where she is.</p><p>“I wanted to see if you were all right.” She keeps the same soft tone she had in the lab and he stares at her for a moment. Then his gaze darkens, he knows it, and she flinches again.</p><p>“So what? Now I’m supposed to believe you give a shit? Do you have any fucking idea what these past six months have been like? And now, with you playing games and going back and forth on what you want?”</p><p>She closes her eyes briefly and inhales a deep breath. He can practically read her mind, still trying to rationalize this as a chemical reaction or imbalance. He wants to fight, to scream, to get out everything he had thought since the night she kicked him out.</p><p>But she won’t engage him. </p><p>“I really wish you’d let me give you the benzo-“</p><p>“I already said no!”</p><p>“It probably wouldn’t even do any good. Just… just take the edge off. I know how you are and that dosage would barely make an impact.”</p><p>“Jemma, stop. Alright? Just fucking stop!”</p><p>“Stop what? I’m only looking out for you.”</p><p>“That! Don’t look out for me. Don’t - don’t act like my wife! Especially since you don’t fucking want to be!”</p><p>He suddenly realizes that he’s towering over her, crowding her against the sink. She doesn’t shrink back. She puts a hand on his chest and presses gently.</p><p>“Step back.” There are tears in her eyes but her tone is firm. Fearless Jemma.</p><p>He exhales a breath, blocks out a memory from six months ago, and turns away from her.</p><p>“You need to get out of here.”</p><p>The door shutting quietly is the only sound acknowledging his order.</p><hr/><p>He stands in the hall of the hotel, torn as to which direction to go. He has just left May’s room, after discussing their experiences with the staff.</p><p>
  <em>Go see your wife.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t think I can call her that anymore.</em>
</p><p>He finds himself in front of Jemma’s door almost on autopilot. He hesitates in knocking (scared of rejection; scared of hurting her) but finally taps his knuckles in the sequence he taught her long ago.</p><p>He wonders if she already fell asleep or if she’s ignoring him. He wouldn’t blame her if she was.</p><p>He’s about to turn away when the door opens. She’s wrapped in the hotel robe, hair dripping wet from the shower he clearly pulled her from.</p><p>“Can I come in?”</p><p>She regards him briefly but steps back and opens the door further to let him enter. Once he’s inside, she shuts the door and locks it.</p><p>He walks to the bed and sits heavily on the edge.</p><p>Avoiding Skye had been easy.</p><p>Sharing war stories with May had been easy.</p><p>This was … not easy.</p><p>“How are you feeling?” She leans against the front of the dresser and crosses her arms.</p><p>“Drained.” He leans forward on his knees and presses his face into his hands. “Jem, I’m sorry.”</p><p>There’s a long moment of silence, then he feels the bed sink and her arm wraps around his back.</p><p>“It wasn’t you. Just a biochemical reaction.”</p><p>“It was me though. An extremely magnified version of me.”</p><p>Seriously, he was the worst person to have touch the staff. He’s got multiple lifetimes of lies covering up what’s underneath. All the anger, all the violence.</p><p>“It’s not your fault. And about earlier… of course I want to be your wife. I just - sometimes it’s overwhelming.” She mutters. “And … you were right.”</p><p>“About what?”</p><p>“What you said that night. I knew what you were before I married you. I knew the various means that are used on your missions.”</p><p>“It never meant anything. It was just work and even then, it was not a common process.”</p><p>“I know. But you always hid it so well, even though I knew, I could pretend like it never happened. But it was right there in my face. And then once we started arguing …” she pauses and she almost seems reluctant to say the next part. “You scared me Grant.”</p><p>He still has his face in his hands and he can see it all play out. Jemma yelling in their living room, that fucking dress shirt with the lipstick stain, him refusing to leave, him pushing her onto the couch, suddenly realizing what he had done.</p><p>He had left and thrown himself into assignments. Volunteered for anything to keep him active and his mind off their separation; of not seeing them for months.</p><p>Then he processes what she said. Scared. Not scare.</p><p>“So what changed?”</p><p>“You jumped out of a plane without a parachute on to save me. I don’t excuse your behavior but I think given the circumstances… and your track record with me… that was an outlying event.”</p><p>He lifts his head then and she pretends like she doesn’t see that his eyes are red.</p><p>“I regretted it the second I realized.”</p><p>“I know.” She believes that at least. She remembers the cold, deadly even, look in his eyes that night and how he suddenly seemed to revert to his normal self, like someone flipped a switch. She remembers the guilt. There’s a voice in the back of her mind that wonders what will happen if he switches back again.</p><p>“Fuck,” he digs the heels of his palms back into his eyes. He tries to inhale a breath but he lets out a ragged sob instead.</p><p>He can count on one hand the number of times he’s broken down. Every instance has been with her. He doesn’t trust anyone else.</p><p>“Oh Grant,” she’s on him in an instant, fingers carding through his hair and pressing light kisses over his temple, his jaw, his cheek. “I got you.”</p><p>He leans heavily into her, letting her take control. He hears Garrett musing that he’s weak and clings tighter to Jemma.</p><p>
  <em>He’s exhausted.</em>
</p><p>He’s not going to wallow. He’ll give himself exactly five minutes and then he’s going to pull himself together.</p><p>More than five minutes pass.</p><p>Finally, he opens his eyes and glances at their warped reflection in the TV. Total reversal. She has him completely curled up, comforting and protective, like she’s cradling Amelia and not him.</p><p>Fearless Jemma. Thinking she’ll fight the world for him if it warranted it.</p><p>He swallows and presses a kiss to her shoulder, then sits up straighter.</p><p>“You need to rest.” She murmurs when they lock eyes. He’s exhausted but the trail of droplets catch his attention instead and he suddenly realizes she’s still only in the robe, which has partially opened. She recognizes his expression and she feels her whole body flush. “Grant,”</p><p>He gently pulls on the belt and slips his hand in.</p><p>“You need to rest.” She mumbles even as she leans into his touch.</p><p>“I need you.”</p><p>“I don’t want it to be a mistake.”</p><p>“Do you think it’s a mistake?”</p><p>“I don’t want to hurt you.” She whispers before he kisses her.</p><p>“I’ll die happy then.”</p><hr/><p>“Did you really stick your hand inside his chest?”</p><p>She hums and he feels it through his chest, where her head is pillowed under his chin.</p><p>“Hopefully not the one you just jerked me off with.”</p><p>“Do you have to be so crude!” Her head whips up and he just grins at her. “And no, I just walked Coulson through what to do. I panicked.”</p><p>Her eyes dance mischievously and she brushes her hair out of her face.</p><p>“Nevertheless, Professor Randolph was very gracious. He told me I was the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a thousand years.”</p><p>He rolls his eyes as she laughs.</p><p>“Would you disagree?”</p><p>“Not at all.” He grabs her hand gently and places a kiss against her palm. “Still don’t like the guy.”</p><p>She is still laughing as she lays back down. She hugs him tightly and closes her eyes. The time on the clock is atrocious and they’re never going to get any sleep at this point.</p><p>“I was disappointed that we wound up in Ireland so quickly. I had hoped we’d have a few moments to go around Seville. Maybe stop by the tapas place.”</p><p>“Hm, our first date.”</p><p>“That wasn’t our first date.”</p><p>“Yes it was.”</p><p>“Our first date was in Sydney. Remember you were stationed there for approximately a week?”</p><p>“Yeah,”</p><p>“And we went on that walk near the harbor, that little path.”</p><p>“You thought that was a date?” He opens his eyes and stares down at her head, incredulous. She must feel his confusion because she glances up at him with innocent surprise.</p><p>“You didn’t?”</p><p>“Jem, you dragged me out there to pick flowers for some experiment. We didn’t do anything remotely romantic.”</p><p>“Well, I really didn’t need to. I just wanted to spend some time with you and you were so scared to even look me in the eye. I had to do all the work myself. And you carried my specimens for me. I found that quite romantic.”</p><p>“Well, babe, I think you forgot to mention to me that it was a date then.”</p><p>“I didn’t want to spook you. We had a very nice time in case you were unaware of that as well.”</p><p>He lets out a snort and she smiles.</p><p>“But it can be Seville if you insist. That was the first time you kissed me after all.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Jemma never thought about being a mother. It’s not that she didn’t like children. (She doesn’t know many). But she was always striving towards a new goal and moving up in the world. Not to mention the lack of potential fathers available.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then there’s Grant and she can’t imagine any man less willing or prepared to be a father. But she loves him and he’s there and that’s more than enough. Besides, you can’t exactly miss or long for someone that doesn’t exist and likely would not.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Amelia is a surprise to say the least.</em>
</p><hr/><p>She decides to take advantage of the lounge being empty and grabs her tablet before settling into the couch.</p><p>Her finger hovers over the video call option. She feels guilty. Her parents, while not knowing exactly what it is she was doing, understood the importance of the role and that she may not be able to talk on a regular basis.</p><p>They send her daily messages though, a short recap of Amelia’s day and a picture to go with it. She quickly clicks on the album she’s been saving and forwards the file to Grant’s tablet.</p><p>But she’s not busy. She’s hiding.</p><p>Although she feels she made the right decision to save the team, to save Grant, she made a horrible decision as a mother when she jumped out of the plane.</p><p>She presumed Amelia would have at least one parent remaining in that case. She had not considered her husband lunging out the plane after her as a variable. There was so many ways it could have played out. She doesn’t know how to face her family with the knowledge she nearly died, even if they didn’t.</p><p>They had been having quite a few close calls since starting their mobile team. Grant had warned her. Fitz had warned her. Coulson had warned her.</p><p>She had expected to see some sort of action but most missions? And if she wasn’t injured, Grant was. Sometimes both. She sinks further into the couch and sighs. She doesn’t know how he does this.</p><p>Her entire body aches from missing Amelia. She just had to remind herself this was a massive opportunity and wouldn’t last forever. They would need to start being more careful.</p><p>She glances at the time and taps the video call option. The tablet beeps several times before her mother appears on the screen.</p><p>“Hi Mum!” She chirps and gives a little wave. “Just finished breakfast?”</p><p>“Jemma, you look exhausted and you’ve been ignoring our calls!”</p><p>“Oh- I- no. I’ve just been busy. Lots of work. And yes, perhaps I’ve sent a few calls to voicemail but that’s because you’re calling when I’m working. But I see your message every night. How’s my girl?”</p><p>“Very well. Chasing Louie through the mud as we speak.”</p><p>“I hope she’s not being a handful.”</p><p>“No more than you were. I’ll go get her.”</p><p>Her mother disappears from view but she can hear her calling Amelia in from the garden.</p><p>“Mama!” the screen jostles, then Amelia is there, breathless and streaked with dirt on her cheeks.</p><p>“Hello Sweet Pea. Oh, Amelia, I miss you so much.” She swallows, hoping to release the knot she suddenly feels in her throat. Last night, before they all went to bed, Coulson promised a day off. Ireland wasn’t too far from from her hometown in the grand scheme of things and she was determined to sneak off, even if only for a few hours. But duty called and she forced herself back on the Bus, more than reluctant to while knowing Amelia was only hours away.</p><p>“I got a frog!”</p><p>“A frog? Where?”</p><p>“Outside. Grammy said I had to put him down.” She pouts but the loss hardly phases her as she moves onto the next topic.</p><p>Jemma simply listens, drinking it all in. She smiles and hums and nods in all the right places.</p><p>“Mama?”</p><p>“Yes my love?”</p><p>There’s a noise in front of her and Jemma looks up to see Skye frozen a few feet away.</p><p>“Are you coming home?”</p><p>“Hopefully, I’ll be able to soon. I have to go now.” She is reluctant to disconnect the call but she figures it’s enough of a miracle that she had been uninterrupted this long.</p><p>“No, don’t!”</p><p>“Uncle Fitz needs my help.”</p><p>“Can I say hi?” Amelia’s sadness suddenly flips to excitement and Jemma shakes her head.</p><p>“I’m sorry Sweet Pea. He’s working but I will let him know you said hello. Next time, I’ll have him pop on. Okay?”</p><p>“Okay. What about Daddy?”</p><p>Jemma’s breath catches. She hadn’t told Amelia that Grant was working with her. She figured knowing they were together would upset the girl and cause her to feel even more separation. And many questions as well.</p><p>“I’m not sure where Daddy is.” It wasn’t a total lie - she really didn’t know where he was on the Bus at the moment.</p><p>“Oh. I miss him.”</p><p>“I know darling. Daddy misses you so much. And I miss you so much as well.”</p><p>“I miss you Mama. I love you!”</p><p>“I love you too Amelia. Be good for Grammy and Grandpa.” She smiles at the kiss Amelia blows her and returns it. “I’ll see you soon.”</p><p>She ends the call and sets her tablet down with a sigh.</p><p>“I’m so sorry.” Skye instantly apologizes. “I didn’t mean to intrude, or continue standing here like a weirdo.”</p><p>“It’s quite all right. I wasn’t exactly concealing myself here.” She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes and she curls deeper into the couch.</p><p>“So… Mama, huh?”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I had no idea.”</p><p>“Not many people do.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“If people knew, she could be seen as an asset. Not to brag, but I’m sort of a big deal.” <em>More so Grant is a big deal.</em></p><p>“Makes sense.” Skye sits down across from her and curls her legs underneath her. “So what’s she like?”</p><p>“Oh,” Jemma laughs, “a force to be reckoned with. Smart as a whip. Curious about everything and anything.”</p><p>“So a mini version of yourself.”</p><p>“In a lot of ways. But she is a lot like her father as well.”</p><p>“Where is he? I mean, it sounds like she’s with your parents. Is he not in the picture? It doesn’t sound like she sees him.” Skye wonders and Jemma catches her glancing at her bare ring finger.</p><p>“What happened to doing laps?” Like she unknowingly summoned him, Grant enters the lounge and he pins Skye with a disappointed gaze.</p><p>“I was. I needed a break. Not everyone can keep going like you, Energizer Ward. Simmons and I were just chatting …” she suddenly trails off and he lifts an eyebrow as he crosses his arms.</p><p>“About?”</p><p>“Girl stuff.”</p><p>He snorts and looks at Jemma for more information. She glances at Skye, then at the tablet, then back to Grant. He tilts his head a little, contemplating, then understands the expression.</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Skye makes a confused face as Grant’s seems to soften.</p><p>“I feel like I’m missing something here.” She says. “And I’m the one currently with the secret.”</p><p>“No, you’re not.”</p><p>“You know?”</p><p>“Know what?” He challenges her and Jemma chuckles.</p><p>Skye frowns at the sound and sits back in the chair, considering what she’s observed since joining the team. Obviously, Simmons knows that Ward knows her precious secret or she wouldn’t find it so funny. But Ward didn’t even know the difference between Fitz and Simmons so how would he even know she had a kid? Unless it was something he learned recently. Did everyone know? Obviously, if there was Uncle Fitz. Which was so weird, because Simmons and Fitz were …</p><p>She frowns even further. She could have sworn they were together. It was so obvious and then Simmons definitely had that hickey after South Ossetia. Skye could picture some hasty, secret rendezvous celebrating being alive.</p><p>But Fitz wasn’t the only one who escaped death that day. And it was Ward who jumped out the plane after her. And it was Simmons who indulged his secret love of Scrabble. And Simmons did seem to be the only one he actually enjoyed, let alone tolerated. She even saw him laugh with her the other day.</p><p>“Huh.” The pieces suddenly click together but that only makes her more confused. Because Simmons is bubbly and babbles and uses multi-syllable words in casual conversation and Ward is … Ward. </p><p>“You can go ahead and say it.” Simmons says gently.</p><p>“I don’t think it’s necessary.” Ward mutters.</p><p>“We’re a team. There shouldn’t be any secrets on the team.”</p><p>“It’s not secrets. It’s classified information for those without the proper clearance.”</p><p>“I trust Skye.”</p><p>Skye looks up with wide eyes but Jemma just smiles back at her. Grant looks like he prefers not to have this discussion.</p><p>“Grant knows about Amelia because Amelia is Grant’s.”</p><p>“Wow. Okay. So uh, like one night stand?”</p><p>“No. No,” Jemma glances up to Grant, who sighs and sets his hands onto his hips.</p><p>“You can make that call. Clearly, there aren’t any boundaries anymore.”</p><p>She understands what he’s saying. She gets to make the call of what their status is because they are technically separated.  She thinks back to the last several weeks since boarding the Bus. She thinks of the papers sitting locked in her office at their DC home.</p><p>“Skye, we’re married.” She finally says and swears she feels Grant relax at the statement. His hand flexes in her peripheral, like he wants to touch her but won’t in front of Skye.</p><p>“Isn’t there like a protocol against that?”</p><p>“If Coulson was a real CO, yes.” Grant mutters and Jemma’s hand darts out to smack him in the leg.</p><p>“Typically, yes, but as evidenced by your participation here, rules get to be bent a little by Coulson. And we’re also extremely professional.”</p><p>Skye raises an eyebrow. There’s a hint of a smirk on Grant’s face as Jemma blushes deeply.</p><p>“Right.” Skye draws the word out and scratches her neck. “Okay. So…”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>“So when does Amelia get to meet Aunt Skye?”</p><p>“Never.”</p><p>“Don’t listen to him. We can definitely get that arranged. I would love for you to get to know her.”</p><p>“Please. I’ve got to see what you two managed to create. I’m oddly fascinated.”</p><p>“She’s a four year old, not a science experiment.” Grant mutters.</p><hr/><p>“Oh, darling.” There’s a muffled laugh behind Grant as he leans over the bar and holds an ice pack against the back of his head.</p><p>“You know, I’m not usually injured this much.” He mutters as Jemma squeezes his shoulders. “A wrench, huh?”</p><p>“It was a rather big wrench. My hero.”</p><p>“Yeah, sure. Can you try not to be a magnet for trouble?”</p><p>“I will do my best. How do you feel? I hope you don’t have a concussion. Here, sit down so I can actually reach you.”</p><p>He drops onto one of the stools and pulls the ice pack away with a wince. She stands in front of him, practically between his thighs, and checks over him.</p><p>“What is your prognosis Dr. Simmons?”</p><p>“You have an extremely hard head Agent Ward. But I suppose you’ll come through just fine.”</p><p>They share a smile as he weaves an arm around her waist, tugging her flush against his chest. With him seated, they’re nearly level with each other. She just needs to tip her chin up slightly …</p><p>“Ward, Simmons, can I have a word please?”</p><p>Jemma jumps back at Coulson’s voice and looks to find him beckoning them from the stairs. Grant stands before she can move and leads her with a soft hand on her back.</p><p>Coulson leads them to his office, waits until they are inside, then steps in and closes the door.</p><p>“Sir,” Jemma starts but he holds up a hand.</p><p>“I talk, you listen.” He leans against the front of his desk. “You both have had a few rough weeks. I’m approving 72 hours of leave for you both. Starting tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“That’s not necessary.” Grant insists and Coulson tips his head.</p><p>“In the last three weeks, you were almost left for dead, under the influence of the berserker staff, and just a while ago beaten over the head by a dimension hopping dead guy. You’re good Ward but don’t you ever need a little down time?”</p><p>“I prefer to stay focused.”</p><p>“I would have assumed that there was something you were interested in seeing while we were overseas. I told you guys I’d give you a day off. Sorry we had to fly a few thousand miles in the opposite direction.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Jemma says softly.</p><p>“You’re welcome.” Coulson stands and moves around the side of his desk. They take that as their sign to leave. ”Oh and one other thing.”</p><p>He waits until they turn to look at him.</p><p>“Try to behave yourselves on my Bus.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I changed my mind. This is a horrible idea. What are we subjecting her to? It’s just micro-bits of torture, seeing her for one day every few months.”</p>
<p>“Jem,”</p>
<p>The road is nearly empty and he dares to take his eyes off it briefly to look at his wife.</p>
<p>“How do you do this?” She whispers, staring straight out the windshield. “Over and over?”</p>
<p>He takes a deep breath and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. They are literally minutes out from her parents’ home.</p>
<p>“Because I know I’ve got you waiting for me at the end of it.” He says and it must do the trick because she lets out a sigh as she rests her hand on his thigh. “And I’ve got to believe that all of this means something. That Amelia will grow up in a better world because of it. I know that it’s supposed to be about saving the greater good, protecting life, being the last line of defense and all that. I believe that but I… I never had actual people before that I cared about to… motivate me.”</p>
<p>He blinks, ending on an awkward silence, and pulls the car into the last driveway at the end of the street. When he turns off the ignition, he finally looks at her. She’s watching him with a soft smile.</p>
<p>“I think that might be the most words I’ve ever heard you say at once.”</p>
<p>“Great.”</p>
<p>“I love you.” It’s the first time she’s said it since they’ve been on the Bus. He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns as much as he can towards her. “Really, I do. I’m glad you’re here with me, assigned on the same team, even if it’s not protocol.”</p>
<p>“I think it’s the most days we’ve ever been consecutively together.”</p>
<p>“Consecutively?” She arches an eyebrow teasingly at him. “I’m impressed Agent Ward. You know that has more than one syllable, correct?”</p>
<p>“You’re lucky you’re cute Agent Simmons.” He tips her chin up and strokes the underside of her jaw lightly. “I love you too.”</p>
<p>He kisses her softly and she hums against his mouth. A knock on the window pulls them apart and he turns bright red as he makes eye contact with his father-in-law.</p>
<p>She follows his line of sight and jumps slightly at the sight of her father leaning down towards the window. But she steels herself and wiggles her fingers in a small wave. He waves back and continues on into the house.</p>
<p>“We should go inside.”</p>
<p>“Hey, do they know about … what happened?”</p>
<p>“No.” She shakes her head and reaches into her bag. “I suppose I hoped this would happen and didn’t want things to be awkward. Here you go.”</p>
<p>She drops a weighted item into his palm and he stares down at his wedding ring. She’s busy slipping her own set onto her finger, then pulls the visor down to check her reflection.</p>
<p>“You brought them.” He mutters as he slides his ring on, then flexes his fingers. It’s been so long since the last time he had worn it.</p>
<p>It’s rare that he actually wears his ring, due to the nature of his job. He has always kept his with her for safe keeping. And they hadn’t been back home since they first joined the team, which meant she had it this whole time.</p>
<p>“Like I said, darling, I hoped this would happen.” She presses a kiss to his cheek. “Let’s go see our girl, hmm?”</p>
<p>She gets out of the car first and he sits, running a hand over his cheek. There’s an odd feeling in his chest at the idea that even at his worst, or at least the worst she had seen, she still hadn’t given up on him.</p>
<p>“This is a lovely surprise!” Diana exclaims as they enter the house. She squeezes Jemma into a tight hug, which she eagerly accepts.</p>
<p>Not for the first time, Grant feels out of his element in the Simmons’ home.</p>
<p>“Definitely a surprise.” William extends his hand, which Grant shakes respectfully. It’s not that his in-laws hate him. They just … don’t seem sure about him.</p>
<p>He could put on a persona but Jemma would see through it and question him. <em>Just be yourself.</em></p>
<p>Not the best advice for the man with multiple selves.</p>
<p>In the end, he’s stiff and quiet and he sees the wondering eyes on how sweet, excited, talkative Jemma picked someone like him.</p>
<p>Since he first met them nearly five years ago, he’s probably seen them four or five times since and for only a day or two at a time. Not much time to feel at ease with someone. They had always attempted to make him comfortable but he had never gotten there.</p>
<p>Not to mention, the Simmons Family was the complete opposite of the Ward Family. He wasn’t exactly sure how to act.</p>
<p>“Amelia is out in the garden. I swear, she would stay out there all day if we let her.” Diana chuckles. She pulls Grant into a quick hug as William takes Jemma into his arms. “Oh, she’s going to be so excited. All she talks about is the two of you.”</p>
<p>Jemma walks him down a hall, past the kitchen, and to a door that leads out into the backyard. They can’t see their daughter from this angle.</p>
<p>“You can go first.” She says quietly.</p>
<p>“What? No.”</p>
<p>“It’s been a lot longer for you than it has me. I’ve also been calling her almost every day. I can share.”</p>
<p>“You sure?”</p>
<p>“Absolutely.”</p>
<p>He squeezes her hand gently, then pushes the door open and steps into the yard. It only takes a moment to spot her. She’s laying under the gazebo a few feet away, her back to the door. Every so often, she tips her head up, then back down at whatever she’s working on.</p>
<p>He has to remind himself to breathe. It’s been six months since he last saw her in person. He walks slowly towards her, keeping his footsteps light. Even if he made noise, he thinks she’s too engrossed to pay any attention.</p>
<p>She’s drawing on a sketch pad and is taking great care to replicate the carnations weaving around the gazebo.</p>
<p>He eases himself down beside her and leans in.</p>
<p>“Needs more pink.” And quickly leans back as she nearly whacks him in the face from whipping around.</p>
<p>“Daddy!” She flings herself at him and he falls back into the grass with a chuckle as he catches her.</p>
<p>“Hey Bug.” He holds her as tight as he can without hurting her, one hand clasped to the back of her head as the other runs along her back.</p>
<p>She is wrapped completely around his torso, as if she’s trying to burrow inside his chest.</p>
<p>He doesn’t know if she fully grasps the concept of time or just how long is too long. But she snuggles closer and he hears her mumble into his chest.</p>
<p>“I missed you.”</p>
<p>“I missed you too.” He pushes himself up and situates her on his lap. “Hi,”</p>
<p>“Hi,” she smiles Jemma’s smile and bounces on his leg.</p>
<p>“You’ve got dirt all over you.”</p>
<p>“I was ‘splorin.”</p>
<p>“Exploring what?”</p>
<p>“I dunno. Looking for bugs.” She shrugs and he can’t help but laugh as he wipes a smear of dirt away above her eyebrow. He cups her faces in his hands and rememorizes her features. She has his eyes but the rest was all Jemma.</p>
<p>He may talk a good line but he truly has no idea how he finds the strength to go back to SHIELD. (<em>He owes John. He needs to help John</em>.)</p>
<p>“Where you been?” Her voice takes him out of his thoughts.</p>
<p>“What? Oh… lots of work.”</p>
<p>“Did you save lots of people?” She has that look in her eyes, Jemma says it’s hero worship, and he smiles, though it feels forced. Amelia is too smart and too precocious and grasps things he wouldn’t expect.</p>
<p>“I think so.” He spots Jemma walking across the grass, unknown to Amelia. “But when I was out, I did find someone I think you’ll enjoy.”</p>
<p>“Really? Who?” She frowns, then turns and her jaw drops as she spots Jemma. “Mama!”</p>
<p>She scrambles off his lap and races across the yard before Jemma can reach them.</p>
<p>Grant knows he is a part time parent. He’s in and out, without any sort of regularity, and he hates to think of what that is doing to his relationship with his daughter. Jemma was always there, Amelia’s rock, and going through every first, every illness, every discovery.</p>
<p>He doesn’t doubt the love she has for him but it’s only understandable that her bond with Jemma overshadows their own. </p>
<p>After all, he’s the one who swoops in without warning, plays the role of the doting dad, and spoils her, then is gone just as quickly as he came.</p>
<p>He dreads the day she is older and understands. He fears her hatred and resentment. That he could have made different decisions. That his adventurous quests and slaying beasts are not as mythical as they seem (only sometimes) and he’s not the hero she believes him to be. That the line between good and evil isn’t always a line and there’s more gray than he would prefer.</p>
<p>As he watches his wife embrace their daughter and press kisses to her hair, he wants to go home. (<em>He can’t go home. He owes John. John needs him</em>.)</p>
<p>“Look at you.” Jemma is saying when he joins them. She holds Amelia back at arm’s length and clicks her tongue. “You’re nearly as tall as Daddy. What on Earth has Grammy been feeding you?”</p>
<p>“Mama, you’re so silly.” Amelia collapses against her in a heap of giggles. “Daddy’s so high up. I’m down here.”</p>
<p>“I suppose you’re right. A little more sprouting to do then. Now what’s all this dirt all over the place? You look like you were rolling in the weeds. Were you hunting for frogs again?”</p>
<p>“Nope. Bugs.”</p>
<p>“Find any good ones?”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Jemma is not at all surprised that Amelia has latched herself onto Grant. Despite his absences, she was a complete Daddy’s girl.</p>
<p>She thinks that his absences only fuels this, as she craves these moments she gets to have him.</p>
<p>She watches from the window as she chases him through the backyard and smiles.</p>
<p>“She is over the moon.” Diana comments, coming up next to her. Jemma hums her agreement. “She misses you both.”</p>
<p>“We miss her too.” She sees her mother nod out the corner of her eye and turns completely to look at her. “What?”</p>
<p>“Nothing. I’m glad you’re home for a few days.”</p>
<p>“Things are difficult enough without having to wonder what you’re thinking. You know, I get my inability to lie from you.”</p>
<p>She laughs and shakes her head.</p>
<p>“No, I’m not lying. I know you’re doing important work. I just worry.”</p>
<p>“You don’t have to. We’re fine. I’m fine.”</p>
<p>“You look exhausted. You aren’t yourself, even when we talk on that thingy you got us. Are you giving yourself time to relax?”</p>
<p>“As much as I can.”</p>
<p>“You were never like this when you were in the lab.”</p>
<p>“Mum, it’s different now.”</p>
<p>“How long is this assignment?”</p>
<p>“It hasn’t been decided yet but if I feel it gets to be too much, I can request to be moved.”</p>
<p>Diana nods and purses her lips. Jemma sighs, knowing that she’s about to get a scolding.</p>
<p>“Just go ahead and say it. I’m sure it’s nothing I haven’t thought myself.”</p>
<p>“I just think that if Grant is going to be constantly gone, Amelia should at least have you. There’s so many opportunities out there. You can come back here and work closer to home.”</p>
<p>“Maybe I should get to go and Grant can stay home.” She retorts. Her mother rolls her eyes and she knows she’s being ridiculous.</p>
<p>“It’s not the same. Has he ever even spent a day alone with her?”</p>
<p>“Of course he has. He’s not gone as much as you think. Look at them, he’s wonderful with her.”</p>
<p>“He’s the fun dad. There’s nothing wrong with that. I just don’t think he has what it takes to be a full time parent. His work, whatever it is, will always come first it seems.”</p>
<p>“Well, he has an extremely important job.”</p>
<p>“And is that job always going to be there? Is yours? Jemma, you were so young when Amelia was born and I love her dearly of course but you never had a chance to experience all that life has to offer. I’m worried you’re going off on some quarter life crisis and being completely impulsive and irresponsible.”</p>
<p>“I don’t think that’s a thing Mum. I’m not being impulsive or irresponsible. Every decision I make while I’m out there, I think of Amelia first. You have no idea how much I miss her but… I like what I do and right now, what I’m working on, is important.”</p>
<p>“More important than your daughter?”</p>
<p>“Of course not but it might make the world she lives in a little safer. It’s not forever.”</p>
<p>“Time goes a lot quicker than you think love. Before you know it, she’ll be all grown up and off on her own.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>“You’ve got to be kidding me!”</p>
<p>Jemma is giggling around the spoon of ice cream in her mouth. Amelia is practically rolling on the floor. It’s not that funny and he knows her uncontrollable giggles are a sign of exhaustion.</p>
<p>It’s the fifth game of Candyland in which he has wound up losing his turn because of landing on a licorice spot. He huffs in annoyance and rolls onto his back.</p>
<p>“You got bad luck Daddy.” Amelia says, flinging herself across his chest. He drops his hand onto her back and squeezes her gently. <em>You don’t know the half of it kid</em>, he thinks.</p>
<p>She yawns loudly, then sighs.</p>
<p>“I think it’s time for bed.” Jemma murmurs. A quick glance at the clock confirms the late hour, way past her normal bedtime. </p>
<p>“I’m not tired.” Amelia protests but her eyes are drooping.</p>
<p>“I’m sure my love but Pooh Bear is waiting. He can’t fall asleep without you.”</p>
<p>“Come on,” Grant pushes himself into a sitting position, then easily stands with Amelia still in his arms. She sighs again and drops her head on his shoulder. “Can’t keep Pooh waiting.”</p>
<p>“Silly old bear.” She mumbles. Jemma lets her mother know they are putting Amelia to bed and then will go to bed themselves.</p>
<p>Jemma, God bless her, had enough foresight to change their daughter into pajamas before their game. All they had to do was drop her off into bed.</p>
<p>“No! My story.” She protests when Jemma stands from the bed.</p>
<p>“A story? What would you like to hear?”</p>
<p>Grant knows this will drag on and he settles back against the headboard to get comfortable. As he does, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket.</p>
<p>He would love to ignore it but he sneaks a glance anyway.</p>
<p>“I’ll be right back. Have to take this.” He walks out into the hallway and accepts the call.</p>
<p>By the time he returns to Amelia’s room, Jemma is under the blanket with her and reading from an anthology of fairy tales. He stays in the doorway, soaking up the image. She glances up and trails off from the story, her expression changing to one of concern.</p>
<p>“Everything all right darling?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, it was Skye. Calling on the secure line. Thought it was important. I’ll have her do extra push ups when we get back.”</p>
<p>She chuckles softly and turns her attention back to the book. He walks around the other side of the bed and sits down again. He can tell Jemma is beginning to fall asleep as well. The pages get turned less frequently and there’s longer pauses between words.</p>
<p>“Daddy, read it.” Amelia plucks the book out of Jemma’s hands and nearly impales him through the chest with a corner.</p>
<p>“Just a few more pages.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Grant doesn’t remember falling asleep. At some point, he must have laid down but he’s on top of the blanket and the book is wedged under his arm.</p><p>He eases it out from below him and reaches to set it on the nightstand. Amelia makes a quiet noise and he feels her hand flex in his. He turns his head to look at her and smooths his free hand over her hair. She sighs, then settles into the mattress again.</p><p>The mattress is a queen and they would all fit comfortably in there but they’re squished together.</p><p>Jemma is on her side facing them, an arm stretched out across Amelia and her hand on Grant’s thigh. Amelia is twisted, almost on her back. Her one hand is limp in Grant’s and the other curls loosely around a chunk of Jemma’s hair. She’s also a little diagonal, so her head leans against Grant’s chest and her feet poke Jemma in the leg.</p><p>He’s missed this. More than he would ever admit to anyone except Jemma.</p><p>He glances over when he feels her hand begin to move some time later. She yawns, then slowly opens her eyes and blinks at him.</p><p>“Hi,”</p><p>“Morning,”</p><p>“How long have you been awake?”</p><p>“I don’t know. I think I might’ve dozed off again.”</p><p>“Grant Ward sleeping in? What is this world coming to?”</p><p>“The company helps.”</p><p>She smiles tiredly and attempts to move, only to be stopped by Amelia’s grasp. She grimaces and gently uncurls their daughter’s hand from her hair.</p><p>“I forgot she used to do that.” He says, thinking back to Amelia’s infancy when she absolutely needed to grab onto someone to be able to fall asleep.</p><p>“Yes, because you don’t have to worry about her ripping your hair out.” She retorts. ”What time is it?”</p><p>He lifts his head slightly to glance at the alarm clock behind her.</p><p>“8:30.”</p><p>“And she’s still asleep.” She looks mildly impressed.</p><p>“Probably a trap.” He replies as he links their fingers together. “What’s the plan today?”</p><p>“We can let her decide.”</p><p>It isn’t much longer before Amelia begins to stir. She frowns at Jemma, then tips her head up to glance at Grant.</p><p>“Good morning Sweet Pea.” She smiles and strokes her hair off her face. “Did you sleep well?”</p><p>“Still here.” She mumbles and it sends a jab right at Jemma’s heart.</p><p>“Of course we are.” Her smile wanes slightly as Grant kisses the top of Amelia’s head. “We’ll be here all day. We can do whatever you’d like.”</p><p>“Can we see <em>Frozen</em>?”</p><p>“That new movie?” She recalls seeing the posters in the airport. Grant grimaces but refrains from commenting. “I think that could be arranged.”</p><p>“And ice cream.”</p><p>“Ice cream sounds good.”</p><p>“Maybe pizza.”</p><p>“Pizza? Now you’re pushing it.” Grant teases. He tickles her side and she jerks with a shriek.</p><hr/><p>“What about the movie?” Amelia frowns up at Jemma as she pays for the bowling rounds.</p><p>“The movie is going to be a little later. We had to wait for seats. I guess everyone else wants to go see <em>Frozen</em> too. This is just to pass the time.”</p><p>“Lane 18.” The teen behind the counter drones.</p><p>“Thank you!” She smiles cheerfully and grabs the shoes he sets on the counter. “Remember you went to that bowling party for your friend? You had fun.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Amelia eyes the lanes with pure skepticism as they make their way down the row. “I just wanna see <em>Frozen</em>.”</p><p>“I know darling. Soon, I promise. Who do you think will have the best score?”</p><p>“I dunno.”</p><p>“Do you remember how to play?”</p><p>“You throw the ball down there.” She points at the darkened pins at the end of the lane. “And knock ‘em down.”</p><p>“Right. You have to try and get all 10. Every time you go, you get two chances. If you’re very lucky and knock the pins down in one try, that’s a strike and you get extra points. Would you like to go first?”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“Okay. Why don’t you go with Daddy and find a ball that’s good for you?”</p><p>“C’mon Bug, let’s take a look.”</p><p>“I want a purple one Daddy.”</p><p>“We’ll see. We need to make sure you can lift it.” He starts glancing in the racks, then spots a smaller pink ball. “How about this one?”</p><p>He holds it out to her and she easily takes it into her hands.</p><p>“Too heavy? Think you’ll be able to roll that down the lane?”</p><p>“It’s good. I like pink too.”</p><p>“Perfect.”</p><p>They return to their lane and find that Jemma has finished programming the computer with their names.</p><p>“All set?”</p><p>“I think so.” Grant tests the ball he picked for himself, pulls his arm back and moves forward in a fluid motion without letting it go. “Should be fine.”</p><p>Jemma scrunches her nose as she tries to hold back a laugh and he glares at her.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It’s a bowling ball, not a weapon.”</p><p>“You know this is all about aim and accuracy? Weight, motion, range… all that are key to success and if one of them is off, your entire game is off.”</p><p>“It’s a game. We’re here to have fun. Do you know how to have fun?”</p><p>“Let’s see what you’ve got Bug.” He ignores the tease, then sits and focuses on Amelia. She carefully walks to the start of the lane, sets the ball on the barrier line, then gives it a slight push. He groans under his breath as Jemma bites back a chuckle.</p><p>It rolls, slowly, almost immediately ending up in the gutter and stops not even halfway.</p><p>“Perhaps we should put up the bumpers.”</p><p>“She just needs to get on course.” He glances around, then stands from his seat. The alley is relatively busy but no one is near their end to yell or scold them. He steps onto the gutter and walks along until he reaches Amelia’s ball, then grabs it and returns to her.</p><p>She’s frowning quite intensely as she eyeballs the pins and he recognizes the expression as one of his own immediately.</p><p>“Hey, it’s okay. Just takes a little practice. Here,” he holds the ball out to her and shows her how to put her fingers into the holes. “Does that feel okay? You can roll it too like you did but a little harder.”</p><p>She stares down at the ball, like she’s considering her options.</p><p>“And move a little bit that way.” He nudges her to the left and crouches next to her. She opts for using her palms to roll the ball. She crouches, like she’s ready to do a frog leap, then swings the ball back and forward. It soars a couple feet ahead and into the air, then lands on the lane with a loud thud.</p><p>He cringes behind her back and makes eye contact with Jemma, who has a hand over her mouth.</p><p>“Like that?” Amelia looks at him for confirmation.</p><p>“That was better but try to keep it on the ground next time. But look, you got one pin!” He rubs her back and holds his hand up for a high-five. She smacks his hand with a grin and hops a little.</p><p>“Mama, did you see?” She skips back to the seats.</p><p>“I did! It was a very good first try. Here comes your ball, go ahead and take your second turn. Wait until it stops, don’t get your fingers smashed.”</p><p>Her second try is slightly better but it rolls off into the gutter near the end.</p><p>“Don’t they have those stands to put the ball on so she can push it off?”</p><p>“She’s fine. If she gets frustrated we can try but I’m willing to bet she’ll refuse it.” He shrugs and she snorts but knows he is right.</p><p>Amelia had the worst of both their stubbornness and was insistent on doing things herself, even if it took several tries first.</p><p>Jemma goes next and her first attempt lands in the gutter more than three quarters of the way. She looks sheepish as she turns to approach the ball return.</p><p>“You know you have to aim, right?” Grant raises an eyebrow at her and she puts her hands on her hips as she shakes her head.</p><p>“Very funny.”</p><p>“It’s okay Mama! Go again!”</p><p>“Thank you Sweet Pea. At least someone is supportive.” She grabs the ball and attempts her second shot, which rides the gutter but makes it to the pins and knocks three over.</p><p>“You’re throwing your arm out to the side.” Grant tells her as he stands for his own turn. “That’s why you’re going off into the gutter.”</p><p>“That was merely a practice round. I’d like to see you do better.”</p><p>“Sure.” He grabs the ball, then heads for the lane. He takes a moment to line himself up and eyes the shot. He starts to pull his arm back, then stops as he hears Jemma call out.</p><p>“The movie is in three hours darling and I paid for two rounds.”</p><p>“Don’t distract me.” He lines himself up again, then lets the ball loose. It crashes into the pins with a thunderous sound and he watches as all ten clatter to the ground.</p><p>He turns with a smug grin.</p><p>“How did you do that?” Amelia watches with her mouth open as the pins reset while Jemma simply rolls her eyes.</p><p>“Beginner’s luck.”</p><hr/><p>“It was so good!” Amelia exclaims later at dinner, though the words are muffled around the pizza she’s chewing.</p><p>“Don’t talk with your mouth full. Chew.” Jemma points her fork at her, then takes a bite of her Chicken Parmesan. “It was a cute movie.”</p><p>Grant gives a quiet grunt as he sips his iced tea and she rolls her eyes at him.</p><p>“You don’t like any Disney movie.”</p><p>“I’m not exactly Disney’s demographic. I will say it had a better theme this time. At least they took care of themselves instead of waiting to be rescued.”</p><p>“That’s quite the feminist outlook.”</p><p>“Is it wrong that I want our daughter exposed to strong, female role models? I thought you’d like the same.”</p><p>“And there are many wonderful women in the real world that she can look up to but sometimes it’s nice to get lost in a fantasy. Who was your favorite Sweet Pea?”</p><p>“Olaf.” Amelia replies and turns her attention to the placemat she is coloring.</p><p>“See? The talking snowman. I highly doubt she picked up on those more mature themes. What are you drawing?”</p><p>“That’s me.” She taps one of the figures, suspiciously dressed as Elsa. “Cause I want to make snow. And that’s you cause Anna has red hair and is funny and sings and is happy. And that’s Daddy cause what’s his name?”</p><p>“Hans?” Grant supplies dryly. He’s not going to get worked up over a Disney movie, but damn if the prince with the hidden agenda wasn’t a kick in the fucking teeth, he doesn’t know what is.</p><p>“No!” Amelia scrunches her face up and he recalls how horrified she was by Han’s betrayal. ”The reindeer guy.”</p><p>Jemma laughs as Grant raises his eyebrows.</p><p>“I’m the reindeer guy?”</p><p>“Yeah cause he really loves Anna and he thinks he’s grumpy but he’s not. And he’s really tall.”</p><p>“Oh that’s wonderful.” Jemma is still laughing and he scowls at her but he’s fighting off his own grin. “Amelia, Daddy and I have a friend named Skye and I know she would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on this.”</p><p>“No, we’ll keep this between us.”</p><p>“A loner, raised by trolls,” she wipes away tears as she thinks it over, “oh stop frowning. You know I adore you.”</p><p>“I guess I should invest in a reindeer.”</p><p>“Can we?” Amelia’s face lights up at the prospect.</p><p>“No. They smell.”</p><p>“But they’re better than people!”</p><hr/><p>“We going home now?”</p><p>Amelia strolls into the third bedroom as Jemma packs up their limited belongings. One day was not enough for her. If they were going to meet the team in California, they were going to need to leave soon.</p><p>“Oh Sweet Pea.” She sighs as she turns to look at her daughter. “No, we’re not. Come here,”</p><p>She sits down on the bed and pats the comforter. Amelia sits down and lays her head against Jemma’s arm.</p><p>“Daddy and I have to go back to work. So you’re going to stay here for a little while longer.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Well, we have to move around a lot, looking for … for puzzle pieces. So it’s better that you stay here.”</p><p>“What kind of puzzle?”</p><p>“A very big one.”</p><p>“I can help. I like puzzles.”</p><p>“I’m sure you could darling but it’s a puzzle for Mummy and Daddy.”</p><p>“And Uncle Fitz.”</p><p>“Yes, Uncle Fitz too.” Jemma sighs quietly and strokes her fingers through Amelia’s hair. She had braided it only hours ago and it already was a disaster. “What sort of trouble have you gotten into this morning?”</p><p>“I went up the tree.”</p><p>“That explains the leaves.” She smiles as she plucks said leaf from the back of the braid.</p><p>“I don’t want you to go.”</p><p>“I don’t either Sweet Pea but it’s only for a little while. Once… once we finish the puzzle, we can home.”</p><p>“Promise?”</p><p>“Promise.” She pulls her daughter into a hug and cradles her close. There are tears in her eyes as she meets Grant’s gaze from the doorway.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><div>
  <p></p>
  <div>
    <p></p>
    <div>
      <p>“I’ve done as much as I can. I’m sure you’ll heal in no time. It’s rather quite fascinating.” Jemma removes the gloves and tosses them into a nearby bin.</p>
      <p>“I appreciate your help Dr. Simmons.” Mike smiles kindly at her and she blushes, wringing her hands.</p>
      <p>“Well, you’re welcome even though I’m not that kind of doctor. Though I certainly seem to be getting lots of practice these days.” She tugs on the end of her ponytail. “Besides your expedited healing process will be doing much of the work.”</p>
      <p>“I didn’t know you were married.”</p>
      <p>“Wha-oh.” She glances at her hand and is surprised to see her rings still in place. “I didn’t even realize I was wearing these.”</p>
      <p>“He’s a lucky man.”</p>
      <p>“That’s kind of you to say.”</p>
      <p>“He must miss you. Is he supportive of your role?” There’s a melancholy expression on his face and Jemma remembers that his own wife had deserted him.</p>
      <p>“Well, he’s closer than you might think. He wasn’t thrilled, since this isn’t normally my cup of tea, but I think he’s come around to the idea.” She smiles a little. “How’s Ace doing?”</p>
      <p>“He’s doing well. He enjoys being with his cousins. I think he’s taking it better than I am. I think kids are more resilient than they let on.”</p>
      <p>She hums softly as her thoughts flash to her daughter. Her chest aches as she thinks of the tears and how she clung to them before they left.</p>
      <p>“Do you have any?”</p>
      <p>“Any what?”</p>
      <p>“Children.”</p>
      <p>“Oh. Yes. One - Amelia. She’ll be five soon. I suppose you’re right. She’s quite content where she is and enjoys her phone calls with me.”</p>
      <p>“Have you seen her?”</p>
      <p>“Yes, actually, just the other day. I think it was harder on me than it was her. Sometimes, being a parent and an agent is not cohesive.” She pauses as she sits down on the other stool. ”I’m not used to leaving her.”</p>
      <p>“Ace is always talking about the Avengers. All the heroic deeds they do. He always thought that about me, even before this. But after Union Station, I can’t bring myself to look at him. I’m ashamed of what I did.”</p>
      <p>“That wasn’t you Mike. Not the real you and you’ve made so much progress in such a short time. I’m sure he is very proud of you. You’re right. They are resilient. Amelia looks at Grant like he personally hung the moon every time he returns home. There’s been so much he’s missed but that doesn’t diminish how she feels about him. I would say take that bit of leave and see him, no matter how much your own heart breaks afterwards.”</p>
      <p>“I will consider it. Thank you.”</p>
      <p>“My pleasure. Perhaps we should start a support group: Agents of SHIELD Coping with Parenthood.” She considers it, then makes a face and shrugs as he chuckles. “We can work on the name. Perhaps some silly acronym with lots of fancy words.”</p>
      <p>“I’ll come up with some suggestions. It’s nice to be able to discuss this with a fellow agent. Someone who understand the position you’re in.” They share a smile. “So, Grant, huh?”</p>
      <p>“I’m sorry?”</p>
      <p>“You said Amelia looks at Grant like he personally hung the moon. You also said your husband is closer than I think.”</p>
      <p>“Ah, yes. And speak of the devil,” She stands up as she sees Grant climb down the stairs.</p>
      <p>“Am I interrupting?” He glances between them as he enters the lab.</p>
      <p>“No, I think you’ve delayed being patched up long enough. Sit,” she stands and points at the stool.</p>
      <p>“Good luck.” Mike murmurs as he moves to leave. “Thanks again Agent Simmons.”</p>
      <p>”Honestly, you’re like a train wreck sometimes.”</p>
      <p>“It’s not that bad.”</p>
      <p>“May said you jumped in front of her.”</p>
      <p>“It was a tactical decision.”</p>
      <p>She hums as he pulls his shirt over his head.</p>
      <p>“I have a hypothesis on why you normally work alone Agent Ward.” She glares at the wound on his shoulder and the bruising beginning to from on his chest.</p>
      <p>“What would that be Agent Simmons?”</p>
      <p>“You can avoid the hero complex you work so hard to hide.”</p>
      <p>“Hero-” He winces as she pours antiseptic on his shoulder. “Little warning next time?”</p>
      <hr/>
      <p>Jemma’s head jerks up as she hears the closet door open.</p>
      <p>“What? Are you all right?” She tries to scramble to her feet at the sight of Grant in the doorway. His good hand is clasped over his shoulder. If he already managed to pull his stitches out, she would scream.</p>
      <p>“Am I all right? I’m not the one crying in a supply closet.” He secures the door behind him and sits down on the floor next to her.</p>
      <p>“I just need a minute.”</p>
      <p>“Take all the time you need.” He wraps his good arm around her and she burrows into his chest, hiccuping as she tries to calm down. ”We’re going to find him. It’s going to be okay.”</p>
      <p>“It’s not Coulson. I mean it is and it’s also the fact you got shot and broke your finger.”</p>
      <p>“Good thing I took my ring off.” He glances at his left hand and the splint she had forced on him directly over his ring and pinky fingers. If she heard him, she doesn’t acknowledge it.</p>
      <p>“But most of all, I can’t stop thinking that Centipede was able to get Ace. And that … what if they are able to get Amelia. Oh, I couldn’t. I couldn’t take it if something happened to her Grant.”</p>
      <p>“No one knows where she is.”</p>
      <p>“No one knew where Ace was either. This Clairvoyant…”</p>
      <p>“Whoever this asshole is, he’s not really a psychic Jem. Amelia is safe. Don’t let that bother you.” He squeezes her arm and leans his chin against the top of her head.</p>
      <p>“I feel like the worst mother ever.” She whispers. Her fingers are clenching around the front of his shirt and she closes her eyes. “So incredibly selfish.”</p>
      <p>“That’s not true. Come on, don’t talk like that.”</p>
      <p>“It is! Why should I have taken this on? Especially knowing you’re at risk constantly. We’ve set her up for a sad life.”</p>
      <p>“Baby, look at me.” He can’t really bend his hand but he manages to tip her chin up. “You have done so much good since we got on the Bus. You’ve saved lives. And you’ve made sure Amelia is set up as good as possible while you’re away. You are a fantastic mom. She adores you. And trust me, I would love to be able to stay with her 24/7 but that’s not either of us. We both have our jobs to do and we juggle it the best we know how. This isn’t going to last forever. If you truly want to go home, you can back out at any time. They can reassign you back to one of the labs.”</p>
      <p>“Is that what you want?”</p>
      <p>“I want what ever you feel comfortable with. But honey, whether you were on this team or not, she is just as much of a liability for me as she is you. So don’t shoulder all the guilt.”</p>
      <p>“Doesn’t that bother you?”</p>
      <p>“Yes but I’m also confident that if anything were to happen, I would make it right.”</p>
      <p>“How when you’re on the other side of the world?”</p>
      <p>“I seem to remember distance not being a problem when you got stuck in that shack in Alaska and I was in Greece.” He strokes her jaw lightly with his index finger. “Don’t you trust me?”</p>
      <p>“Of course I do but I can’t help but wonder. If we didn’t have her, I don’t think I’d be such a wreck.”</p>
      <p>“You’re preaching to the choir.”</p>
      <p>“So what do you do?”</p>
      <p>“Stay busy, focused on work. Keeps my mind off what ifs. We’re doing something important here Jem. There’s not a lot of room for error and it’s easier to mess up when you’re not focused.” He watches her face carefully and she gives a small nod. “Listen, when Hand gets on board, I’ll see about having some agents sent to your parents. Just to keep an eye on things. Okay?”</p>
      <p>“They’ll hate that and I don’t want them to worry.”</p>
      <p>“It can be discreet.”</p>
      <p>“If it’s not too much of a bother.” She whispers after a long pause.</p>
      <p>“Don’t worry about it. I think she owes me after the little stunt in South Ossetia.”</p>
    </div>
  </div>
</div>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>